


How Strange the Brave

by mizzsy



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Hogwarts, Newt is a cinammon roll, Percival forgets how to words around Newt, Protective Theseus Scamander, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball, attempt at fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:38:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10077752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzsy/pseuds/mizzsy
Summary: Percival Graves, Champion of Illvermony, has displayed outstanding bravery in his first and second task of the Triwizard tournament.Now if only he can use the same bravery to ask Newt to the Yule Ball, or maybe convince Theseus not to set a dragon on him...





	1. Chapter 1

Since coming to Britain, Percival's mental list of 'Things That Are Very Strange in This Country' grew day by day.

First had been how traditional the wizards in Britain seemed to dress. At first he had assumed it was just the school uniforms, designed to try and ingrain young minds with a sense of history. His first trip to Hogsmeade ended that thought.

Then there was the language.  
Weren't they supposed to speak English in Britain? Even among themselves they couldn't seem to decide on the correct terms. He had been witness to a terrifying debate about whether 'tea' was actually an evening meal or a lunch with cake and sandwiches. ("I thought tea was a drink?" He had asked one of his friends. They simply shrugged, equally baffled.) That wasn't even starting on the ongoing feud over the proper term for a bread roll. The three visiting schools quickly learned not to ask, lest they start another furious argument.

The list went on, and eventually Percival had learned to simply go along with the madness when the stairs moved on their own or a poltergeist (the sworn enemy of Theseus) egged the entirety of Beaux Baton's table.

But this, this topped his list.

"Centaurs," He said, utterly dead pan, " You have Centaurs, living on school grounds, and they're going to be part of the second trial?"

Newt shrugged at him.

"They were here first."

Percival buried his face in his hands and groaned, wishing that he hadn't worked out the riddle left in the golden apple he's won in the first trial, or even been named the first champion from Illvermony.

"You don't have to worry though! Centaurs are just proud creatures, but they're really quite caring and gentle-"

A look from Percival cut him off.

"Well, they are if you give them the proper respect, which I imagine the other champions aren't planning on doing, which is why you’ll be the one to win this task."

As often happened, he couldn't help the smile that came with being in the younger Scamander's presence.

"Will I now? And why is that?"

The 15 year old leaned in conspiratorially, seemingly gleeful with his plan.

"Because I befriended the Centaurs in my second year" He said "And I'll teach you to do the same so when the time comes, they'll let you pass right by with the prize without needing to use your wand once."

***

Newt's lessons soon became a regular fixture in Percival's evenings, much like the younger boy, and his brother, had become a part of Percival's life just a few days after he arrived at Hogwarts.

He had met Theseus first, hard to miss him after all, when they had both gone to put their names in the Goblet.

It had ended badly; Bloodied noses and a trip to the medical wing badly.

Then he had come across Newt, or rather, the group of 6th years tormenting Newt who found themselves with a rather nasty boils hex hanging over them for the next week.

The younger boy had blushed and stammered his way through a thank you, and remained silent as Percival insisted on seeing him back to his dorm room. That was, until the topic of magical creatures came up, and suddenly Newt had come to life, eager to share everything he knew, even if that meant finding Percival at breakfast to finish their conversation.

It would seem all someone had to do to earn Theseus Scamander's respect and friendship was to be kind to his baby brother, as he found he had both Scamander's doggedly following him throughout his day and insinuating themselves into his life with a stubbornness he couldn't hope to fend off. Soon, he found himself looking forward to studying across from Newt and, Merlin help him, encouraging Theseus in his, now, two man war against Peeves. It was...pleasant, to say the least. He wouldn't describe himself as a loner, but true loyalty didn't come easy to him, not like it had with Theseus. He shocked himself when the words 'best friend' slipped from his tongue just weeks after their meeting. Yet, the speed with which they had learned everything about each other and gained a strange synchronisation didn't cancel out the fact that this was closest he'd allowed anyone in a long time.

And Newt...

Well, it was for the best Theseus never knew of the way Percival thought about Newt, or he may have been far less willing to work together in the first task.

("Without question, Newt is the most precious, greatest thing in my life." He had told Percival once, while they both recovered in the medical wing from an ill-planned spell. "No one else can have him, they have to prove themselves to me. With blood."

"Didn't you curse all his shirts to glitter last week?"

"With blood, Percival."

He had laughed it off until his friend had presented him with a list of trials any potential suitors would have to complete.)

And yet, Newt had made himself a place in Percival's affections much like his brother had. Beneath the blushes and frankly adorable eyes, he had a strength that left Percival breathless. Any ideas he'd had about being Newt's protector were quickly dispelled after he saw what the younger boy did to the Drumstrang students who mistreated their bowtruckle.

The bowtruckle, now named Pickett, lived happily in Newt's robes, and the Drumstrang students had absolutely nothing to say on losing their pet.

Every time Newt showed these little moments of steel, or shared a fraction of his seemingly endless knowledge of creatures, Percival felt himself fall a little harder. And now, as Newt went over the correct way to approach the Centaur's leader, he had to remind himself exactly why leaning over and kissing those fast working lips was a terrible idea.

"Remember, respect is the key, treat them like you would a human and acknowledge that it's their territory and- Percy?"

He snapped out of his reverie to see Newt close, eyes full of concern as he leaned in with his, oh Merlin, tie hanging loose and shirt unbuttoned enough to allow him to take in the lovely, pale neck and sharp collar bone.

Interrogation under the influence of Veritaserum, that was one of Theseus' trials. Focus.

"Are you alright? You seem very drowsy." Newt asked, his usual compassion in every sound.

"Yes, yes, quite alright. Just tired." He cleared his throat and edged back. Dragons, he was sure he'd seen dragons on the list. "You must be as well, between teaching me and Theseus on the Centaurs."

"I'm not teaching Theseus, actually. He can try and figure it out himself." Newt said, looking away briefly. "He's doing his silly caveman act again, with the Yule ball coming up. As though anyone would want to ask me anyway. No, he can try finish the task his way, but you are going to win it."

Percival smiled in response. "He won't like that, I imagine."

Just like he wouldn't like how close his best friend and little brother were, arms brushing against each other.

But sod it, Theseus wasn't here, was he?


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter 2-

In the end, the second task itself was not the hard part, from Percival’s view at least. The 4 competitors lined up at the edge of the forbidden forest and are told to collect their prize and return with it,the announcer of course being vague on what the prize would actually look like.

Percival’s eyes skimmed the cheering crowd, wondering if Newt was among those shouting his name, before they all made their way into the forest and the sounds were caught and swallowed up the thick branches sprawling across their way.

‘You'd think they’d pick tasks people could, you know, actually watch’ Theseus interjected into the silence. Of course his friend had joined him, no doubt it would be a long walk to the Centaur’s territory, and equally doubtful Theseus would stay quiet for all that time. Still, the company was welcome. ‘Are they all just going to sit there, waiting? It’ll take at least 3 hours to get to the Centaurs and back.’

Percival chuckled. ‘Why? Are you worried they’ll be too bored to appreciate your great victory when you make it back?’

‘You think I’m going to win then?’ Theseus beamed.

‘No, just trying to replicate what goes on in your delusional brain’.

He was prepared for the swipe at his head that earned him.

‘Sod off,’ Theseus said, ‘It's not just winning is it? I’m a champion! I’m supposed to be seen being brave and daring, impress everyone, maybe get a partner to the Yule Ball out of it.”

Percival snorted. ‘I don’t doubt you’re already harassing the poor girl you want to take.’

‘Carmen Hunt’ Theseus said, eyes sparkling. ‘You know the Gryffindor in potions? I was going to ask her after my heroic deeds in this task.’

‘I'll pray for her’.

This time he didn’t avoid a strong shove.

‘She's doing better than you. Haven’t you decided who you’re bringing yet? Who have you been harassing?’

Percival averted his eyes, wondering how to answer his stubbornly inquisitive friend without being losing certain body parts. Why yes, I desperately want your baby brother, you know the one you said was your reason for living and threatened to kill for? It’s his smile, his eyes, his utter disregard for his own safety, I’m a goner.

No, there were perhaps better, less honest ways to answer.

But the silence had already hung for too long, enough for Theseus’ suspicious nature to catch on.

Theseus had told Percival of his sorting, how excitedly he’d shot up to have the sorting hat on his head at age 11. It was probably his proudest achievement, having the sorting hat take the longest to place him than any other student, and he hadn’t even had to do anything but be the typical, brilliant boy he always was.

The thing was, Theseus embodied more than a few of the traits of the Hogwarts houses. The boldness and bullheadedness of Gryffindor, obviously. He had ambition and cunning lying just beneath the surface, waiting to be used in little pranks or grand schemes, that embodied Slytherin values. Intelligence, too, could be seen in his quick eyes, measuring you up and judging your worth with an air of someone who knew they were better.

Whether it was that his loyalty was stronger, or the sorting hat gave up and chose at random, young Theseus was sorted into Hufflepuff and he’d fully embraced it in the years since.

But in this moment, his Ravenclaw tendencies were fully at play, and quickly tore apart the meaning of the silence.

After all, he had gotten to know Percival extremely well these last few months, and they had both shared a great many secrets between them both. It was unlikely embarrassment that would stop Percival spilling the name of someone he liked, or even fear of Theseus’ interference that would hold his tongue.

So, was it anger he expected from Theseus, if he told?

Who, in the small circle of friends and acquaintances that Percival had made during his visit, did he think would anger Theseus?

Carmen was quickly eliminated from the list, swiftly followed by others.

‘Newt.’

The name was loud in the quiet of the forest, but slowly and languidly made itself truly known. The consequence of the single sound cracked the silence and splintered out, grabbing on to both boys and leaving them shaken.

‘It is, isn’t it? It’s Newt.’

‘Theseus, please, I really care for him-’

‘Then you would have told me.’

‘You're so protective, I was worried that...’

‘No, no. You know me, you’re my friend, that’s what you said. You know I just want him safe, to protect him from people who’d hurt him, Christ, Christ.’ Theseus broke himself off with a choke, scrubbing furiously at his face. ‘He's 15, Percy, he’s a kid, why would you-’

‘Theseus, please,’ Percival took a step towards his friend before hesitating ‘I just couldn’t help it, he’s so-’

‘Couldn't help it?’ In comparison to the stream of messy, fiery words Theseus had thrown earlier, these came with an icy edge. ‘What did you do, Percival?’

Interrupting to defend himself became impossible under the flood of Theseus’ freezing rage.

‘All those times you were alone with him, you… I trusted you with him and-and…’ He shook ‘Is that why? You try and impress this little kid, realise I’m his big brother and think “Hey, I can get through him, just got to earn his trust.”’

‘Theseus I would never hurt Newt.’

‘No,' Theseus replied ‘You never will.’

 

A more naive wizard would stay and try and calm down the furious Scamander as he threw his more and more wild accusations around.

Percival was, however, a rather smart wizard, who started to run as soon as he saw Theseus reach for his wand.

‘Oh not you don’t’ Theseus shouted, voice already distant ‘You get back here and prove yourself Graves!’

The rest of Theseus’ words were lost to the trees.

***

Wandering around a dark, lonely forest gave one a lot of time to think.

Mainly on all the ways he had completely and utterly cocked up the conversation with Theseus.

I couldn’t help it. Jesus, why did he open with that? Why not start off convincing Theseus of his worth by listing all his pure, good intentions towards Newt rather than sounding like a two-bit pervert.

Theseus would never talk to him again. He was certain. 

He hadn’t even begun on the sinking ache in his chest knowing that Newt would probably think he’d used him all this time. Right now, his head was screaming full of Theseus hates me Theseus hate me oh God I screwed up.

Any thought of the task had completely left his mind, which was of course why he found himself stumbling into Centaur territory, quite by accident.

‘Greetings.’ A deep voice broke him from his trance so suddenly that Percival found himself stumbling over some thick, twining roots before looking to the source of the sound.

None of Newt’s lessons had covered impressing a Centaur when in the middle of an emotional crisis.

‘You are one of the champions, yes? Here to collect your prize.’

A quick glance round the areas charred trees and churned up ground told him he wasn’t the first to try.

The centaur chuckled. ‘Well, will you get your wand ready, try take it by force?’

The forest had long since grown cold, the shaded darkness of the trees giving way to the empty void of night. Percival stomach rumbled at its neglect, his eyes hung with a tiredness that matched his heart and frankly, he could not give a shit about the tasks at this moment, not enough to try fight a centaur or even schmooze one.

‘No,' He said with a shake of his head. ‘No, I don’t want any damn prize, I don’t want to win. I just want to go home, if you’d kindly show me the way off your land, I won’t need a wand.’

The centaur fixed him with a strong, assessing stare. His dark eyes seemed to envelope Percival, lit with a new knowledge of his worth. It chilled him, suddenly aware of how he was shaping up in the creature's eyes.

‘No?’ He said, each sound deliberate ‘You would simply leave then, with no attempt to gain the glory you young wizards seem to want so desperately?’

Percival nodded, his words abandoning him under the scrutiny.

‘Well then,’ the Centaur said with a slight smile ‘I will gladly escort you back to the path, if only to make sure you don’t go back on your word.’

Percival nodded, falling in step with the large creature as he led a path through the darkness.

“My name is Percival, by the way.”

“And I am Firenze. It is a pleasure, young Percival.”

***

The walk back took considerably longer as Percival was no longer stuck in the worries in his head. And he wasn’t a rude young man, between his strict gaelic grandparents and Newt’s lectures, he knew better than to leave the Centaur in silence. Politely, they exchanged chit chat and little pleasantries until the conversation, inevitably, turned back to the tournament.

“All the others have come and tried to take it then, the prize?” He asked Firenze as they navigated the twisting tree roots.

“Just two, neither from Hogwarts, and both failed rather badly.” The centaur replied. Percival couldn’t help the smile that quirked at the corner of his mouth, more than happy to imagine the, frankly, stuck up girl from Drumstrang being soundly kicked out by a herd of Centaurs.

Firenze continued. “I am curious, young champion, why you would come all the way to our territory a give up before the fight even begun. Fear, perhaps?”

Percival glanced away. “I was never going to fight you. My friend Newt, has been coaching me for weeks on how to ask, respectfully, when you require something from a centaur.”

“Ah,” Firenze said, eyes twinkling, “You are friends with the smaller Scamander then? He’s well respected, and liked, among the herd. Few would be brave enough to come to our territory so young, and only to talk with us.” he gave Percival another, more discerning, once over. “It speaks well of your character if he considers you a friend.”

“I’m not sure I-” He cut himself off, not quite prepared to spill his woes to a centaur. “He’s always been kind to me.”

“Indeed,” Firenze said, before looking contemplatively into a copse of trees, “We are nearing the edge of the forest, I must leave you here.”

Percival turned to look him in the eye, bowing slightly. “Thank you, Firenze, for all your assistance.”

“Have you eaten?” The centaur said suddenly “You’ve spent hours in this forest, surely you’re hungry by now. Here.” He reached into the sack he had slung across his human torso. “Take this with you.”

Gingerly, Percival reached out and took the moist object. It was fleshy in parts, then soft hair and-yep, that was blood dripping onto his fingers.

Hoping it was an animal carcass he’d been given, and not the remains of the Drumstrang and Beaux Batons champion, Percival dipped his head once more in thanks, before turning away and heading to the edge of the forest.

***

Apparently the cold wait and encroaching darkness was not enough to deter the crowds of spectators, as Percival was met with a deafening roar of cheers when he broke through the tree line. The sudden, cacophonous noise rattled against his ears after so long in the quiet forest, to the point he almost missed the magically magnified voice of the professor-

“And here returns Illvermony champion Percival Graves and, yes I see it! He has the prize! Percival has completed the second task!”

The shouts and whoops doubled, a wave hitting him all at once. He frowned, looking about for the supposed prize, when it hit him.

“Well done, Percival, very well done.” His headmaster, Professor Highfield, was suddenly beside him, beaming and shaking his hand, “Not many young men can say they managed to steal a Centaur’s hunt from under their noses! It must have taken a great amount of bravery!”

The dripping hunk of meat still sat in his other hand, the crowd still screamed into the night, and he was still the brave champion, the first of Illvermony.

The hysterical laughter that bubbled up in his throat was down to giddiness, pride and reveling in his own victory.

None would guess it was the manic laughter, or a manic questioning of everyone around if Theseus was back yet, if he still hated him.

The meat slipped to the ground unnoticed, and Percival, only winner of the second tasks, allowed himself to be swept away


	3. Chapter 3

The first one came the same night of the second tasks, at the party supposedly thrown for him.

Percival had been press ganged into a ‘small' celebration shortly after arriving back at the castle, thrown in the small dormitories accommodating the visiting schools. Faces from all four schools crowded in, loud, triumphant and alive. Percival sat in the middle of it all, a blank slate his admirers came to draw their congratulations on. He barely heard any of it, tired, frustrated and lost that he simply murmured along to the noise around him. He became so separate from the proceedings he almost missed it.

“Percival?”

He blinked back to find the sweet face of a lower classmen from Illvermony, nervously chewing her lip betraying the hope in her eyes.

“I’m sorry?” He said, eyes flicking those around him, desperately hoping for a clue as to what he was responding to.

“I asked if...I wanted to- Oh never mind!” Courage apparently spent, she turned and fled,hand gripping at her own wrist tightly. A low whistle sounded from beside him.

“Wow Percival,” Tina, one of his more tolerable classmates said, “How you’re fighting the ladies off with moves like that, I don’t know.”

“I...what?” Percival replied, head still somewhere back with the lonely trees.

“You’re not getting a date to the Yule Ball if you can’t even pay attention when someone asks you.” She glanced in the direction the girl had left, “Annie’s a nice girl, you better make it up to her.”

Percival looked down at his hands, if only to break away from the looks of everyone else in the room. No date, at this moment, sounded like the best idea in the world.

***

The second and third came in quick succession, with two Hogwarts girls cornering Percival during morning break.

His blunt denial of the first didn’t impede the confidence of the second, it seemed.

Theseus had been correct; His apparent bravery in the second task gave everyone around him enough courage to hound him for a dance at the Yule Ball. How the sight of him bedraggled, grimacing and clutching at a bloodied lump of meat had enthralled the hearts of seemingly every girl in the school was beyond Percival.

There’d been no sign of Theseus, to discuss the strangeness of girls with, or anything else for that matter.

He started taking walks in the evenings, so as to fill the time.

***

He stopped counting after 7.

Despite quickly gaining a reputation as a heartbreaker, the female population were undeterred in their efforts to sway the handsome, icy Percival.

Tina had stopped disapproving and begun to find the whole thing hilarious.

“It’s reverse psychology,” she giggled one day, something that was disconcerting in itself “The more coarse and grumpy you are, the more fun it is to convince you.”

A groan came from where Percival’s face lay planted on the table.

“Please make them stop.” He begged.

“What makes you think I can do anything about it?”

“I’ll treat you at Bertie’s on the next Hogsmeade visit.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Percival never realised how many students filled the hall of Hogwarts until he had seen neither Scamander for 2 weeks.

It never occurred how easy it was to lose someone in the hordes of people, when they’d never tried to hide from him before

***

 

He shouldn’t have snapped at the girl.

She was only a shy fourth year-probably taking days to build herself up to talking to the infamous, imposing Percival Graves. And he- oh Merlin.

“No!” He had said, quiet but sharp and biting, eyes narrowed and superior, “No, why would I want to go to the ball with any of you? You’ve never even spoken to me before. Just leave me alone!”

Well, any remaining admirers he had would probably hate him after seeing the poor girl run off in tears. Perhaps he should just give the Yule Ball, and any social interaction, a miss until the third task, where he would hopefully croak it and never have to deal with people again. It sounded a fantastic plan at the moment.

With a groan he came to a stop and put his head in his hands.

He was sick of fucking Britain.

Apologies would come later, for now he wanted to wallow. He hadn’t seen or heard about the Scamander’s since the second tasks. Any mutual friends just shrugged when he asked.

It hurt, how suddenly, how carelessly this part of himself had been ripped out of him. The shape of Newt’s smiles and Theseus’ laughs had been torn out from his heart, and it was currently bleeding so freely it felt like he might die before it healed.

He wanted, so desperately, to return to the forest and shake himself into lying, to be a quicker thinker so the truth hadn’t spilled out and ruined it all.

He could have gone on, for hours, prodding and interrogating the fresh wound, but a commotion caught his attention and yanked him from his musings.

Percival had managed to wander to the edge of the Forbidden Forest almost blindly; he suspected the Drumstrang students huddled in a circle had come with a purpose. He looked over, recognising some of them as former tormentors of Newt.

He also recognised the chirping, panicked noises coming from the centre of their gathering.

Without a second thought, he rushed over pushing his way to the middle amidst protests.

Newt would not be happy about this- Percival was pretty pissed by it, in all honesty.

There, being harassed by a particularly mangy looking cat, was Pickett, frantically running from curious paws and being kicked back by large boots whenever he strayed too far.

Immediately, Percival reached down to rescue the little Bowtruckle, only to be yanked back by one of the spectators.

“Leave it!” He said, amusement from watching the smaller creature struggle laced in his voice, “we’re just having some fun with the tiny twig.”

“Fun?” Percival snarled “That’s not your Bowtruckle to play with! It’s Newt’s!”

The other boy snorted. “We’re borrowing, yes? He can get it back if the cat doesn’t first.”

Percival shoved at the boy, hard. He stumbled a few steps, just enough to break the circle.

Pickett was quick to seize the opportunity.

With surprising speed for his size, the Bowtruckle dashed out- straight to the forest. Percival, forgetting all about the other boy, quickly followed, calling out the creature's name.

The gathered students laughed. “Crazy American-you won’t get out of there this time!”

Percival hardly heard them, already in the quiet grasp of the sometimes-forbidden forest.

***

 

In hindsight, running into the Forbidden Forest in the burning dark evening to search for a twig-like creature was not a great plan.

But then, he could hardly have left Pickett here all by himself and hope he would find his way back.

With a sigh, Percival once again turned in a circle, analysing the ground and surroundings in hopes of a sign.

“Pickett? Come on, I need to get you back to Newt.” He said, voice hushed. He had started out shouting the creature's name at the top of his lungs in the hopes of being heard, only to find the forest was far less still and silent at night.

A champion was always brave-but that didn’t mean they had to be stupid either.

Still, no response of any kind came. He had set himself yet another impossible task, but he could hardly turn away now.

He barely took another step when he heard it.

A rumbling noise, deep, rough and coming just a few feet ahead.

Percival froze, eyes snapping to the source of the noise.

The hungry sounding noise.

For a few long, stretching moments, the scene stood still. Percival kept his gaze trained on the darkness ahead and the creature made no moves.

A slight shift in the shadows, and Percival turned and ran.

The creature, four legged from the way the branches broke under it’s gallop, tore after him, easily matching his speed.

Dont look back dont look back Merlin why does this school keep trying to kill me

Every stumble, every slight trip, sent a shock of panic through Percival’s spine and choked him with fear. The beast was still following him.

He was going to die, looking for a Bowtruckle, in bloody Scotland.

It was inevitable, really, when his foot caught on one of the many twisting roots and he flew through the air, landing in a tangle down a muddy bank. Within seconds of the crash his hands came up and his feet started to scramble for traction against the ground. 

But the thundering steps had already reached him.

Percival didn’t think of himself as a coward- in all honesty he thought himself to be very valiant. Often, he and Theseus and postured about their future ambitions as Aurors, of all the noble and heroic battles they’d fight, whilst Newt guffawed at them.

But right now, he laid on the forest floor, eyes screwed shut and shaking, because he couldn’t bear to have his last sight be...whatever it was now rumbling too close to him.

He felt the vibrations on the ground before he ever heard the stampede of hooves approaching.

The creature behind him squealed, high pitched and shocking compared to it’s bass-like noises previously, and took off in the opposite direction, Percival completely forgotten.

He still lay on the ground, frozen, until a hand came into his vision.

“And I thought you a wise champion, Percival Graves. Why have you come back to the forest so late?”

Percival reached out and took the offered hand, pulled to his feet he came face to face with Firenze again.

“Firenze,” he greeted the centaur, “Thank you, I...the thing following me.”

“Is of no concern now.” the centaur assured him, “But you haven’t answered me: Why are you back in the forest? Surely it’s not another challenge for the champions- the Hogwarts boy makes so much noise we would know if he came back.”

Percival chuckled despite himself.

“Yeah, Theseus likes to announce himself.” He paused, “I came looking for a Bowtruckle that ran in here. He’s Newt’s friend, and I don’t want to leave him alone in here all night…”

“Newt’s friend- Ah! You mean the leaf like creature?”

Percival nodded.

“You’re in luck, Master Graves.” Firenze said, hand held out, and there, quite happily sprawled along the back of his hand, was Pickett. “He apparently remembers us from young Newt’s visits, and found us shortly after entering the forest.”

Pickett blew a raspberry at Percival, and he almost collapsed in relief.

“Firenze! I can’t thank you enough, I really can’t. All you’ve done for me…”

Firenze gave him a small, beatific smile.

“It is no trouble, Percival Graves. I feel bravery such as yours should see some reward. Now, shall we take the leaf creature back to his friend?”

Centaurs, Percival decided, were desperately needed in the school grounds at Illvermony.

***

Percival came back to the castle just over two hours after having fled from the latest “proposal”. With Pickett safely huddled in his collar, he made his way to the Hufflepuff dormitory. Despite Firenze’s words, he wasn’t brave enough to try reach out to Theseus yet.

Soon though, he would have to try. No matter how much the rejection ached now, how much it might sting for it to dealt again, he couldn’t face himself everyday if he never tried.

He managed to collar a second year on his way, passing Pickett along with strict instructions to ensure he made it safely to Newt Scamander, or He Would Know.

He made it to his own bed around midnight, marking the 18th day of his Scamanderless life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deus Ex Centaur


	4. Chapter 4

Long ago, somewhere in the land between magic, fate and destiny, some great powers must have gathered to decide the absolutes of the universe. Because, it was a long standing, ingrained fact of existence that when one laid plans, Theseus Scamander would upend them, in a typically dramatic fashion.

Percival should have remembered and realised this, before the elder Scamander ambushed him with a semi-friendly knock to the head while Percival was in the middle of figuring out his apology speech.

“You’re a bloody idiot, you know that?”

Percival only gaped, imagining he looked rather stupid as Theseus went on.

“In my defense, you said some pretty creepy things, and I know I’m overprotective but he’s my little brother you know, and have you seen him, I need to-”

Instead of the large, full body gestures which usually accompanied Theseus’ speech, his hands twisted and fidgeted in tight, quick movements. His eyes darted about, unable to look directly at Percival where on an ordinary day he would fix his attention solely on his audience. His rambling went on, cutting himself off as though unsure of himself.

In short, Theseus was acting like Newt.

And Percival had became fluent enough in the ways of the Scamanders to understand what it meant; Theseus, bold, confident, arrogant Theseus, was nervous.

“Theese” Percival said, deciding to throw the boy a rope, “Thank you.”

Theseus swallowed, finally looking directly at his friend.

“Yeah, well” Theseus said, before his voice took on the faux casualness of his familiar story telling style “You know Newt had a scare the other day? Apparently Pickett went missing for a few hours, Newt went spare worrying about him, when all of a sudden he’s back in the dorms like he was never gone, being the usual clingy pest he always is. Newt didn’t really care about the how, he was just glad Pickett was safe. But you know me, I love a mystery.” With a sigh, he fell into the seat beside Percival. “See, if someone goes to the trouble of saving one of my brothers creatures, when we didn’t even know he was in trouble, and doesn’t claim the glory for it, that tells me something.” He held Percival’s gaze. “That tells me that more than anything they just want my brother to be happy. Chasing after a Bowtruckle into the forest? I don’t think any of my little tests can beat that.”

“Theseus, I-”

“I guess I can’t be the scary big brother forever.”

There were no words to be found, in that moment. But Percival's mind was happy enough to direct him into throwing an arm around Theseus, before slapping him upside the head.

“I missed you,” he said, “you big drama queen.”

Yeah, yeah” Theseus said, shaking him off a though he could shake off the moment with him, “But more importantly- Peeves has had the upperhand with your absence, and I’ve had some ideas…”

***  
One childish farting charm and a stern talking to from both their headmasters later, Percival finally found time to seek Newt out. He found him, huddled under their favourite tree out in the grounds. His head bent over a book so that his face was mostly obscured by curls, which Pickett was enthusiastically trying to groom

Percival breathed in, steadying himself. He could do this; He had the speech all prepared in his head, created with just the right amount of casualness and romance. He could be smooth, suave and confident, Newt would-

Newt tipped his head up to try focus his eyes on the Bowtruckle now dangling over his forehead, a bright smile on his face.

It was like the sun had dawned, flowers were blooming and the world was made of rainbows, for Percival to see that smile after so long. 

Nope.

With a gulp, he turned and ran for it in the opposite direction.

Not today.

***

That didn’t count as a real attempt, Percival told himself as he stalked the corridors later. It wasn’t like he planned on spilling all his long hidden feelings after seeing the boy for the first time in weeks.

And definitely not when his heart had been caught off guard like that.

No, he needed a methodical, perfectly planned approach. Something guaranteed to make sure Newt knew just how much he cared without making the other boy uncomfortable.

And he would come up with a tremendous one.

Any moment now.

“You’re scaring the first years.” Tina’s voice cut into his circuitous brooding. “I thought you’d be in a better mood now you’re back in the Scamander’s good books.”

“It was only Theseus that was mad, Newt was-”

“Newt’s too sweet to be at anyone if it’s not over his creatures, I know.” Tina said, “You know he stayed up all night to help me look after Hettie when she was sick? I didn’t even have to ask before he came over.”

A pause.

“I love him so much.”

“Me too.” Tina replied. “Now when are you going to put all your admirers out of their misery and ask him to the ball?”

“I’m planning on it-”

“When?”

“I just, need it to go well. A lot of things could go wrong…”

“Like what?”

“What if he says no? Or he could be really uncomfortable and say yes when he doesn’t want to. He might hate me, or tell Theseus and he’ll decide to kill me after all or-”

Tina put her hand on his shoulder, cutting him off abruptly.

“You’re an idiot.” She said, bluntly. “You are going to go up to him and just tell him that you wanna go with him to the Ball. The worst thing is he’ll say no and you’ll have to deal with it for a while. The best thing is he’ll say yes and you’ll be helplessly, disgustingly in love the entire night of Yule Ball and the rest of your lives. You just gotta ask yourself if it’s worth the risk.”

“Ok, but what if-”

“Percival, for Merlin’s sake, just go ask him!”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

***

The second attempt, Percival had decided, would be to just see how it went. He’d known Newt for months, and become close friends with him without any elaborate plans. All he needed to do was let things take their natural course, as they had been doing, and not worry too much.

By the time he found Newt again his chest felt so tight it might explode. The sweat, too, was doing nothing for his appearance.

“Ah, Percival! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Newt bounded over, hand gripping Percival’s elbow and already excitedly filling him in on all that had happened in the past few weeks. The familiar babble seemed to reach out to his hammering heart and soothe it, and before long Percival found himself smiling as wide as Newt did.

And just like that, Percival wondered how he had been worried at all, when being with Newt like this was always so easy.

He could feel the way his eyes softened when they looked at Newt, probably finishing the disgustingly loving look on his face, and he didn’t care at all. Merlin, he had missed Newt so much.

“I talked to the centaurs, you know, they were very impressed by you.” Newt continued, Percival only just managing to fully understand his words again.

“I think that’s all thanks to you, really.” He said. Newt ducked his head, snorting.

“Nonsense. I just helped a smidge, everyone knows you’re the brave one.”

Here was his opening-a chance to let Newt know how much he admired him.

“I don’t think that, you’re very-”

His brain came to a halt.

Brave. He just needed to say Newt was brave.

But wasn’t that a little patronising, just repeating back what Newt said? He needed to come up with a different word.

“W-when you’re, you know, with your creatures, you… you’re not-”

Oh Merlin his mouth needed to stop this instant.

“Percival,” Newt cut him off, “Are you trying to tell me you think I’m brave?”

“Yes.”

Newt smiled again.

“Thank you.”

Newt, I-” Percival began, only to find his mind was still stuck in the same queue like earlier. Merlin knows what might come out this time. “Ihavetogoseeyoulater.”

He turned and left before he could do anymore damage.

On the bright side, all this running would be good practice for when Theseus changed his mind and came to avenge his brother’s virtue.

***

“I can’t do this, it’s too much.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’m never gonna be able to ask him.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Theseus, you have to help me. You’re his brother, surely you know him better than anyone.”

“Very true.” Theseus said, languidly reaching over Percival’s knees to grab some more Bertie’s Beans from the table. “But I don’t see why I have to help you.”

Percival glared at his friend from where he laid sprawled on the other side of the settee, legs comfortably tangled over each other.

“You said you wanted me and Newt together. That I’d proven myself.”

Theseus shrugged.

“I said I’d allow it, I’m not helping you steal my brother away from me. Plus, it’s hilarious to hear from Newt just how badly you’re doing at the whole wooing thing.”

“You’re an absolute ass, Theseus Scamander.”

“Thank you, I-Gagh!”

Percival was not a childish man, but when your best friend has left such an opening when mocking you, you had to take advantage. He took hold of Theseus’ left foot, dangled over his thigh, and tickled it mercilessly. The older Scamander gave a high pitched, very unmanly giggle. Percival didn’t relent, noticing how Carmen and her friends had definitely noticed and were laughing among themselves.

Served him right.

Theseus, not to be outdone, launched himself upright, trying to tackle Percival backwards and free his foot. Whilst the tickling stopped, it only led to his face being squashed between Percival’s paws. Soon, both boys were rolling on the floor of the common room, insults coming from the both of them whilst a few spectators egged them on.

“Percival! Are you trying to kill my brother?”

Both boys paused-Theseus’ head squashed against the floor, and Percival with two fingers up his nose, to look at Newt.

“I didn’t say to stop.”

Theseus made a noise of anguish , slightly smothered by the wooden floor, while Percival laughed in reply.

“You’re quite sure? You might need him, pathetic and useless as he is.”

“I suppose,” Newt sighed, “You better let him up before he gets truly upset. Honestly, you two are alone for 5 minutes and this happens.”

“Ah little brother,” Theseus said, scrambling upwards as soon as Percival released him to bound over to Newt and pull him into a hug. Newt pulled a face, mouthing ‘help’ towards Percival. “You’d miss me when I’m gone! Who else would you have to protect you from all those nasty, creepy tossers who want to ask you to the ball? ” Theseus continue, looking Percival in the eye as he nuzzled his face into Newt’s curls. Asshole, he mentally began listing all the hexes and curses he knew that Theseus needed to be introduced to, if he thought-

“I’d have Percy, of course.”

Oh.

Theseus pulled away, gasping in a mockery of hurt.

“I’m far better than Percy, you can’t possibly prefer him!”

Newt shrugged, a wicked smile catching on his lips.

“And which one of you won the second task, and which one had to be rescued when he got lost?”

Percival barely held back his laughter-somehow that story had yet to come up in his and Theseus’ catch ups. The man himself sputtered, before launching into a passionate, loud tirade. Percival turned, laughter still hanging on his face, to find Newt already looking at him.

Oh.

It still shocked him, the little moments when Newt caught him off-guard enough that his breath stuttered for a moment, and he felt that lost, adoring expression fade onto his face as naturally as his heart beat. It was as though, after all these months, he was still surprised to look across and see someone like Newt was in his life.

So- Oh.

“I think you upset him.”

“He’ll get over it, I’m sure.” Newt said, eyes still fixed on Percival’s. “I was being honest, though,”

Oh.

Before, he had been scornful to think that there would be a ‘moment’ where he would ask Newt to the ball, believing that it would be his own courage that would make it rather than waiting for it. But this, this felt right.

“Newt, I-”

A pillow flew across the room and hit Percival square in the face.

Theseus laughed, catching himself when Percival turned to him with a murderous expression on his face.

Merlin damnit.

The other boy barely had time to begin fleeing before Percival tore after him, mind now only filled with the thought of tearing Theseus Scamander limb from limb. Behind them, Newt sighed to no one.  
“I’m going to Tina’s.”

No one heard him.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few days, Percival once again found himself the centre of attention at Hogwarts. Only now, instead of being the object of admiration, he was the butt of the joke. Theseus, with his loud mouth, had decided to inform everyone of Percival’s so far disastrous attempts to ask Newt to the Yule Ball. Everytime he was near Newt, it seemed they had an audience, watching without shame and smiles pulling at the edge of their lips. Even when he had no plans to ask Newt, only spend a few hours with his friend, he could feel his face begin to redden under the attention. It seemed the entire school and all its guests were watching to see if Percival would work up the courage to do it- he swore he even saw Newt’s transfiguration professor watching them with twinkling eyes as they walked along the corridor together.

None of them offered their help or advice. Assholes.

This, this was so much worse than fending off the attentions of his fans- any doubt and insecurity he had about how to court Newt was tripled knowing that it would be watched and judged by who knows how many eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure if they were rooting for him to succeed or fail.

“Percival?” Newt’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, a frequent occurrence recently.

“Hm? Oh sorry, I was just-”

“Bored?” Newt smiled.

“No, not at all,” Percival hurried to reassure him, “I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“The ball?” Newt said, “Honestly Percy, I thought by now you would have got yourself someone to take with you. You must have someone you want to ask.”

Someone giggled behind them, and Percival reminded himself fits of violence were not romantic.

“Well, I...um” He stuttered, internally cursing himself. Every mention of the Ball around Newt seemed to turn him into a moron recently. Any other topic and the two would talk away the hours as they always had, but every time the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings came up, Percival’s brain seemed to go into meltdown. Even now, when all he required of his tongue was for it to wrap around the word ‘you’, his body flew into a panic as it analysed every terrible possibility that could come from such a phrase until the silence became uncomfortable.

Perhaps it would be for the best if they just remained friends; It was a nice, safe option, and who needed a boyfriend when you could adopt a perfectly good kneazle instead.  
“Hah! I knew you did.” Newt said triumphantly, hand reaching out to touch Percival’s shoulder. “Theseus said as much to me.”

Of course he did. Even when Theseus promised not to actively stop him from asking Newt to the ball, he was a master of passive aggression.

“Go on then, who is it?” Newt continued, for once searching out Percival’s gaze, “is it...anyone I know?”

You, damnit, it’s always you.

“No-one.” He blurted out instead. “No-one at all.”

Newt sighed, taking his hand back to his lap and leaving a cold space where it had been on Percival’s shoulder. “You’re no fun Percy, you’d tell Theseus but not me.”

A loud, disruptive cough came from the same person behind them. Percival turned, to see a girl from Beauxbatons, Suzanne, watching them unabashedly.

“Perhaps you should go to the infirmary with such a bad cough, Suzanne.” He said shortly. He was already aware how badly he was failing at this, he didn’t need any audience participation to remind him.

“I feel perfectly fine,” The girl said smoothly, “I only wanted to speak to Monsieur Scamander here.” She turned the full force of her bright, beautiful smile on Newt, who now resembled a turtle trying to retreat into its shell.

“Oh um, Hello?” He said nervously. Sometimes, Percival forgot this was how Newt was around most people- by now he was used to hearing Newt chattering confidently away at him. It had been a while since Newt had even tried to avoid his eyes.

“I was wondering, perhaps, if you had a date to the ball yet?”

Silence stood between the three for a few moments, tense and uncomfortable.

“Are...are you sure you have the right Scamander?”

Oh, Newt. Percival was torn between reassuring him that anyone in their right mind would choose him over his slightly insane brother, and jumping to claim Newt as his date to the ball.

“I am quite sure, Newton. Unless, there is someone else you want to ask?” She said, eyes flicking to Percival for just a moment.

“I’m-I’m really flattered, but I, um-”

Ce n'est pas un problème.” She said, “No doubt, someone will snatch you up before long.” She departed with a flick of her hair, Percival glaring after her long after she left their sight.

Whilst he had come to terms with the fact he may never muster up the courage to ask Newt to the ball, he did not have to accept that anyone else could do so.

“Percy, are you Ok? You’ve gone rather red…”

***

This time, for sure, Percival would ask Newt to the Ball and be able to spend the evening showing Newt just how precious he was. He had a full proof plan, all he had to do was acquire some help.

“Tina,” He whined from his position on the sofa in the Illvermony guest dorms, face planted in the cushion “I need you to ask Newt to the ball for me.”

“What?”

“It’s perfect, if he says no I can pretend it was all a joke and I don’t have to hide from him and his brother for the rest of the stay.”

A beat.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not, Geez, I thought you were a big brave champion or something.”

“And I thought you were my friend.”

“For the love of God Percival, just go ask him and put the rest of us out of our misery. People are too scared to ask him themselves because they think you’ll murder them in their sleep or something.”

A series a grumbles and groans came from the sofa-none of them sounding like a denial to Tina.

***

The weekend before the ball once again saw Percival wandering about the ground, searching for Newt. By now, he had given up any notions of approaching the situation with any sort of plan. Instead, he planned to take the first opportunity he saw and let things turn out as they would. He already had a great evasion plan for if Newt said no and the awkwardness between them became too great. 

When he finally spotted Newt, he just about gave up.

Newt sat on the grass, wrapped heavily in his robes and scarf against the encroaching winter cold. A few snowflakes were falling, not enough to cover the ground, but still catching on Newt’s curls. He was beaming at Pickett, who perched on his hand, little twigs waving enthusiastically. His freckles were almost hidden under the red blush that caught on his cheeks, and his eyes were curving in laughter now.

Percival was quite aware, thank you, that the angelic way he pictured Newt in his thoughts were influenced by his own feelings, and ever so slightly biased. But right now, looking as though he had been snatched straight from Percival’s fantasies, he would challenge anyone not to say Newt was the most perfect, beautiful person on the planet.

It wasn’t fair- why could Newt turn his thoughts into a sappy, poetic mess, yet his mouth couldn’t get with the program.

“Oh, Percival!” Newt shouted over to him, but Percival was still stuck analysing every last bit of Newt’s features.

“Percival? Are you alright?”

Percival, it seemed, had gone into complete shutdown, eyes blankly meeting Newt’s.

“Percy...” Newt said, hand reaching up to his forehead to take his temperature. The touch caused his face to flush hot at the feeling of Newt’s soft skin against his.

Still no instructions from his traitorous mind.

“You’ve gone all red again! Come on, you need to go see the Mediwitch, now!”

Oh. no no no no.

“Newt, I’m-”

“No you’re not!” Newt cut him off, voice taken on the hard edge usually reserved for Theseus’ particularly piggish days. It almost hurt to have it turned against him now. “You’ve been acting strange for days now, and I won’t have you getting ill because you’re too stubborn to see what’s wrong. Now come on.” He grabbed onto Percival’s arm and began dragging him along, proving again that his slender appearance shouldn’t be mistaken for weakness.

And it was, after all, this side of Newt he had fallen in love with too. The fiercely loyal and protective Newt who wouldn’t take no for an answer if he thought someone he cared about needed help.

And it was really inconvenient at this moment, given there was nothing wrong with him other than his having the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.

“Newt, please-just listen to me.”

“Nope, nothing you do will stop me from taking you to the infirmary!”

That he could believe, until the Mediwitch informed him that there was nothing wrong with his friend other than his being an idiot, Newt would drag him by his ear to the infirmary if he had to.

No doubt Theseus and their constant audience would get a laugh out of it.

Bravery, he had discovered since meeting Newt and the trials that followed, wasn’t always an inherent trait. It was a matter of circumstance. Like a melting point, people had different stages where their bravery was no longer a given, but a choice. Percival had always thought of himself like Iron- bravery just happened for him. He had never met circumstances so terrifying he had had to find his courage again. People had called him brave for it, though fear had never been a consideration when facing centaurs or bullies. Then there was Newt, like the sun in so many ways, he melted away the foundation of him so that he was left afloat in doubt.He felt for sure that around Newt, he would never be brave again.

He found himself for the first time running to avoidance and fear, and now he had to choose bravery, rather than just be it. With circumstances that had forced his hand- the realisation of just how out of control the situation had gotten and the necessity to avoid the infirmary meant he had no choice but bravery.

“Newt,” He said, weak, yielding, “I’m not sick.”

“Then why are you-”

“It’s a blush,” He said, “from embarrassment, because every time I try to ask you to the Yule Ball, I start to stammer like an idiot, and then I start to get nervous and sweat and then I go quiet because I don’t know what to say and…” He smiled sheepishly down at Newt, he had stopped tugging him and was now watching Percival with a shocked expression. “I’m not sick.”

Newt, it seemed, had frozen, and Percival wondered if his face looked like that everytime Newt had smiled him into submission.

“You wanted to ask me to the Yule Ball?”

Percival could only nod.

Suddenly, the sun seemed to break over Newt’s face as a smile split it open with joy.

“Of course!”

“I, what?”

Newt ducked to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before dashing off towards the castle, shouting over his shoulder.

“I can’t wait!”

Percival stood for a moment, before a dopey grin settled on his face as he watched Newt leave.

That wasn’t so hard.

***

“So, I think I asked Newt to the ball and he said yes?”

“What do you mean, you think?”


	6. Chapter 6

There was not really much else after that, in the wait for the Yule Ball. All the trials, misunderstandings and dramatics (Theseus) seemed to have been used up in the preceding weeks so that the few days between asking Newt and the ball itself were almost pleasant for Percival. For him, there was no nervousness over what to wear or how foolish he would look dancing, unlike Theseus whose bravado seemed to have abandoned him in these last days until he was an anxious wreck.

(“Percy could you teach me how to-”

“No.”)

Percival was suspicious that he had worn a blissed out smile on his face all week, though no one was brave enough to confirm it to him. How could spending a night with Newt, wonderful, lovely Newt, be bad? He had gone through more than enough to earn it after all.

He had not been able to gauge Newt’s feelings on their approaching date, as he was unable to pin the younger boy down for more than a few moments before turned red and ran off.

Though usually with a goodbye kiss , leaving Percival flushed or beaming, though he had no complaints. He had Newt, what complaint could he possibly have.

It was all going so well, through the building anticipation, watching the decorating when the day arrived, even whilst getting himself and Theseus ready just minutes before they were due to go down and lead the champion’s procession.

Theseus had mocked Percival for his choice of a three piece dark navy suit with a sapphire waistcoat, and tie. It was a very muggle style, true, with only his Grandfather’s starlight cufflinks adding anything magical to it, but he would take muggle clothing over the monstrosity that were Theseus’ dress robes anyday.

British wizards fashion left much to be desired, though he didn’t have to mention this to Theseus as the boy was more than capable of insulting the outfit himself.

“She’s gonna look amazing, and I wanted to look like I made an effort!” His friend whined, “Not like my Grandma’s house elf!”

Percival chuckled, straightening out the frilly cuffs of Theseus’ robes and patting him on the shoulder.

“You look fine,” He said kindly, “Although...perhaps a colour changing charm wouldn’t hurt.”

While he was sure Theseus was proud of his Hufflepuff colours, they, perhaps, weren’t the most impressive thing to wear to a ball

By the time they made it to the stairs, Theseus now in a more muted gold and black, the two were amicably bantering as they always did, though Percival noticed the way Theseus’ hands fidgeted in his pockets more and more the closer they came to the crowds waiting at the bottom. And still, Percival felt fine, excited even.

They had only been stood a moment, before Theseus froze completely, letting out a shaking breath of awe.

“Wow.”

Carmen Hunt glided her way through the crowds, a vision in chiffon blue and her blonde hair curled regally in an up-do. Theseus’ eyes never left her, and Percival wondered just how she looked to his friend in that moment. Inarguably, she looked beautiful, but to Percival she was just that-attractive, good looking, but it it didn’t cause his mind to stutter, or his heart to dance a little . And yet, to look at Theseus’ softening face, she was all of his dreams come together in one vision.

She must look to Theseus as Newt did to him, he decided.

He didn’t try to distract his friend, knowing he would be occupied with other matters all evening now. Carmen spared him a smile, however, as she reached Theseus and him.

“Don’t worry.,” She said, even as she took hold of Theseus’ hand, “He’ll be busy all night, or else I’ll be quite insulted. You and Newt can enjoy yourselves.”

It was a true testament to the girl’s power that Theseus didn’t even try to protest and give any last-minute warnings as he was led away, the crowds parting to watch the pair pass by.

A cough sounded behind him, and Percival turned around to be faced with Newt, at last.

Percival no longer felt fine.

Apparently, the cause of his false sense of ease was that he had forgotten that the attending the Yule Ball alongside the object of his affections would include seeing the younger boy dressed like...well, this. Any opinion he had previously had about traditional wizarding robes was swept aside. Newt wore a deep green robe, flaring out to just above his knees but the upper was fitted so it framed his slim torso. While his white shirt held the same lace frills on the cuffs and open collar that had irritated Theseus, Newt simply looked regal in them, having turned them in just so. Little details,which he usually barely noticed in clothing,jumped out at him; the silver phoenix feathers embossed into his waistcoat, the gold thread decorating the edges of his robe, and the silver pocket watch tucked away in his trousers.  
Newt beamed at him, curls brushed for once away from his face so that Percival could look directly at his face, his eyes that crinkled in nervous excitement.

“Percy, you look amazing.” He said, a little breathless as he took in Percival’s appearance.

You look like a gift from the Gods, he thought in a mental babble. The floating candles lit on the freckles gathered on Newt’s nose, and was his hair sparkling? He was so engrossed in his internal appreciations he almost forgot he had yet to verbally reply to Newt.

Ah, his old friend speechlessness, he hadn’t missed it.

And yet, this time, he didn’t have to worry if he was too forward, or misinterpreting. Percival knew, for certain, that Newt was here for him, he looked like that, for him. He simply had to act, and show Newt he was not mistaken in placing his heart in Percival’s hand for the evening. For once, he would ignore his mind entirely, and follow what the swirling warmth in his chest told him.

With a un-shaking hand, he reached out and let his fingers trace the outline of Newt’s collar, trailing up Newt’s neck until he cupped the younger boys face with his entire hand.

“Newt,” He said, voice soft and filled with emotion in place of an actual compliment. There was no need, instead, he simply leaned in a pressed a chaste kiss to Newt’s cheek.

Newt flushed, apparently unused to being played at his own game as he was suddenly unable to look Percival in the eye again. With a smug grin, Percival moved his hand from Newt’s face and took his companion by the arm.

“Shall we?”

**

The procession into the hall, watched by hundreds of eyes, had Newt blushing and biting his lip as his eyes cast about frantically. Percival glanced down to him, giving his arm a soft squeeze.

“Ok?” He asked, whisper almost lost under the triumphant music of the band.

“Everyone’s going to be watching us,” Newt murmured as they made their way to the centre of the room, following as Percival guided them in a graceful circle until they faced each other. Percival pulled him in close, chests brushing as his hand dipped to the small of Newt’s back, fingers dancing over his spine.

“I don’t blame them,” Percival said, smiling down at his partner as the tempo began to slow to something more slow, classical, “I can’t take my eyes off you either.”

Newt’s response was cut off as the waltz music began, following as Percival led them through the first few, slow steps. He narrowed his eyes at the older boy, though it soon fell away in the wake of Percival’s happy stare fixed on his.

They made several turns around the room, coming in closer and closer to the other twirling dancers as more couples began enter the floor.

“So, are we supposed to just stare at each other this whole time, because that might get dull.” Percival said, causing Newt to burst into laughter and bury his face into Percival’s chest. They missed a few steps, causing a drumstrang couple to bump into them. Percival could hardly care, having Newt curled in close to his body like this, the rest of the world just did not matter when he had someone precious like Newt in his arms. They regained their rhythm, now bouncing light and quick on their feet as their feet matched each other step for step.

“I see Theseus drew the short straw on dress robes.” Percival said, managing to maintain the eye contact with Newt as they moved, Newt’s face finally losing some of it’s nervousness as his focus was held by Percival.

“Mother wanted to buy for at least one of us. I wasn’t sure if I-”

“You look incredible,” Percival assured him, “I couldn’t believe it, when I saw you, that I was lucky enough to be the one spending the night with you.”

Newt blushed again, face turning crimson as he looked to the floor again. Percival hand shot out and tipped his chin back up.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He said hurriedly, “I mean it.”

“Where did all this charm come from?” Newt said, “I seem to remember you being a-a stuttering mess a few days ago.”

Percival chuckled. “Ouch, Newt. That’s a low blow.” Newt simply smiled back, “I suppose, I found a reason to be charming, now I have to keep you entertained all evening.”

The song began to trail off, and chatter filled the room for a few moments as dancers began to leave the dancefloor. Percival found himself reluctant to move, arms still locked around Newt’s body and letting his eyes take in every detail of Newt this close up.

“Another dance?” Newt asked.

“Of course.”

The music came back, a faster, jauntier pace, and Percival moved his arms to hold Newt’s hands in his.

“Do you know this one?”

“Not at all, but we can try.”

They both giggled, undignified and catching the disdain of neighbouring couples who had begun to move in large, sweeping movements that mirrored each other. Straightening up, Percival pulled Newt along, face mockingly serious and scolding.

“Now Newt, that is not the sort of behaviour expected at a noble and distinguished event like the Yule Ball.” He said, voice imitating Newt’s own well spoken accent almost eerily. Newt continued to laugh, hiding his face in Percival’s shoulder as their joking gained more attention.

“But the Illvermony champion sets such a bad example”Newt teased, voice muffled against Percival’s skin.

This, the ease of being with someone who makes you feel warm just by being near, was what bliss was meant to be, Percival decided.

“I blame Theseus’ bad influence, honestly.” Percival said, spinning Newt round by the hand even as the rest of the dancers seemed to be doing some sort of complicated step-sequence. Newt groaned even as lost his breath from Percival’s enthusiastic dancing.

“Can we please not bring my brother up tonight, please?” Newt begged to the sound of Percival’s laughter. 

“As you wish.” 

They attempted to copy the movements of those around them, as the men guided their partners around their back and spun together with their linked hands over their heads. The two, too caught up in their own laughter and clumsiness, became tangled, till percival simply pulled Next so his back was pressed against his chest, arms tangled up in an embrace and swayed to the music as the song drew to a close. They made their way towards the drinks table, deciding that the more serious dancers would probably appreciate their absence. They had been moving more than he thought, as he began to notice the sweat gathering at the top of Newt’s forehead. He reached over, swiping a napkin over it without a thought. 

They sat, talking over small and large topics and watching their friends spin by. Percival felt light, at how easy it was to grace Newt with little touches on his hands and face and not worry about being pushed away. To have them returned when Newt would scoot closer, lean his head on Percival’s shoulder and take hold of his hand to play with it absent mindedly in his lap as they talked.

The night melted away too quickly, in a blur of candles, ball gowns and Newt’s softly smiling face. Soon they found themselves curled around one another in a nearly empty room, with Newt slowly but surely dropping off to sleep.

“Newt,” Percival said in a low voice, nudging the younger boy, “I think it might be time to leave.”

Newt grumbled, stubbornly nuzzling his head against Percival’s neck, “Don’t wanna…”

Percival chuckled, “Much as I agree with you, it looks like the party’s over, and you don’t want to keep the house elves up do you?”

With a grunt of acceptance, Newt began to wriggle upright, stretching his arms out with a resounding click and leaving Percival missing the warmth that had been attached to his side for hours now.

Looking at Newt’s face, drooping in tiredness but still containing the giddiness of their evening, Percival realised he wasn’t ready for the evening to be over yet, either.

“Come on,” He said, recapturing Newt’s hand, “I have an idea.”

***

The grounds of Hogwarts lost some of their most notable landmarks to the dark of the night, but the clear scottish sky above their head gave a spectacular view of the starry night and was more than enough reason to keep walking hand in hand with Newt at the late hour.

They had little to talk about now, both tired but clinging onto the the remains of the night. They simply took the time to enjoy the quiet company of one another as they circled around the familiar areas of Hogwarts. And they were familiar to Percival by now, he realised; he had been here for a few months but they had gone by so quickly, and yet with so much consequence. The Scamander brothers, both so dear to him now, had grown to be a part of him in no time at all. More than the trials, and the burden of being Illvermony’s first champion, they became a defining point of his life. He didn’t want it to end, just like the night.

With a sigh, Percival pulled them to a stop and drew Newt close by the waist, taking the moment to imprint on his mind that it was important he remembered Newt like this- Lips slightly parted, yet upticked at the corners, his freckles scrunching up on his nose, the way the details of his dress robes fell away in the dark but the rest of Newt seemed to light up in the starlight. Just in case.

“I like you Newt,” He said, tones smooth and even despite the awkward words, “Quite a lot. And I’ve had a wonderful night with you.”

Newt tilted his head in a radiant smile. “Me too.”

“I know it’s a bit of a commitment, given how new this is, but I thought I would ask if-when I leave, if you could-”

“Percival,” Newt said, lacing his hands up behind Percival’s head and drawing his head down so their foreheads touched. “I will write to you, every day probably.”

There was nothing else to say to that.

His hand reached out, cupping Newt’s face tenderly and in a haze, he drew Newt in till their lips, at last, met.

He was sure there were many emotions and sensations to be catalogued in the kiss; Newt’s looked soft and probably felt better, his heart was either racing or soothed to a slow beat, the hair caught in his fingers must feel like silk. But his brain was unable to process this, still caught in the fact that it was Newt, his Newt, that he was kissing in the cold night.

To Hell with the Triwizard cup, he thought as he pulled Newt in closer, determined to thoroughly ravish him before he had to deliver him back to Theseus, he had his prize right here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you describe clothing. How do you describe dancing. How do you write


	7. A Few Years Later...

He could do this.

Percival had been over this many times over the years he had spent as Newt’s other half. The first summer when their letters were tentatively exchanged despite no name being given to their relationship. Percival’s initiation as an Auror which came which came with an offer for Newt to be his plus one at the ceremony. Getting through Newt’s expulsion, and his decision to traverse the world after. Their arguments, volatile but quick to tide over. All of it had confirmed, over and over again, that Newt was the one for Percival.

Still, he could be forgiven a few nerves as he palmed the velvet box in his pocket. He may not be a teenager anymore, but he still did not entirely trust his brain to do this right. With a fortifying huff, he entered the room.

“Ah, Percival this is a surprise!”

“There’s...something I need to ask you.” Percival said, finger once again stroking the box and trying to strengthen himself with the fantasies of the life waiting for him and Newt if this went well.

“I’m listening…?”

“It’s just...it’s been years since were teenagers, and the Triwizard Tournament. So much has happened since then, but one thing hasn’t changed, and I want to make sure it never will so.” With an awkward shuffle, he pulled out the box, to a shocked gasp from Scamander.

“Theseus,” Percival said, “Can I get your blessing to marry Newt?”

A beat.

“No, absolutely not.” Theseus seethed, standing from behind his desk. 

Percival laughed. “Whyever not?”

“You-! You’ll make him move to America, and I won’t have it!”

“But Newt loves New York so much-”

A paper weight flew at his head, and Percival turned and sprinted for the door.

“PERCIVAL GRAVES YOU GET BACK HERE AND PROVE YOURSELF!”

Percival’s head popped round the doorway, just for a moment.

“He already said yes, by the way.”

He was already gone again by the time Theseus’ hex came at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Prompt:Ilvermorny's champion Percival has completed both challenges of the tournament with enormous bravery.
> 
> Yet, why is that he can't get the courage to ask Newt to the ball? Whenever he approaches Newt it ends with him running with his tail between his legs, leaving a really confused Newt behind. His best friend Theseus is amused, a jerk, and not helping. 
> 
> Newt himself is very concerned about Percival’s weird behavior as of late. Percival face is flushed red and he's sweating a lot. If he sick than he really should go to the healers and Newt will not take no for an answer. 
> 
> Cue a very flustered stuttering Percival being dragged to the healing wing by Newt. Resulting in a very awkward confession… then its Newt’s turn to blush.


End file.
